Draco Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone
by Cyrus Malfoy
Summary: The night before his sixteenth birthday, Harry wishes to be free of the scar and everything that goes with it. The next morning he is woken by his little sister on his eleventh birthday. (AU with very brief Post OotP Canon)
1. Happy Birthday, Harry

Disclaimer: I don't own a bloody thing you've ever heard of before. In fact, I'm a nineteen-year-old Canadian Male. In other words, I'm about as far from being Jo as possible.

Chapter 1: Happy Birthday, Harry.

"Why me?" Those were the words going through the head of fifteen year old Harry Potter as he arrived at the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive and opened the door. The Dursleys were, predictably enough, mortified to see that he had snuck out.  
  
"Where have you been boy? You were told to stay in."  
  
"I know Uncle Vernon, but I-"  
  
"But nothing," Petunia interjected. "What if more Dementors had come here? You know that none of us has a wand to produce a Patronus-" As she had the previous year, Petunia hurriedly covered her mouth, but this time was too much to get by Vernon.  
  
"And how exactly do you know what the spell to get rid of them is called," Vernon asked, suspiciously. "First the Dementoids, Cabana prison and Voldie-thingie last year, and now this Patternius?"  
  
"We'll discuss this later, Vernon. Right now we need to deal with Harry's refusal to follow even simple rules."  
  
"Right. Boy, we listened to those freaks, we treated you well, and all we asked in exchange was for you to stay where we could know you were. We even told you that with a day's notice you could go out if we knew where you were."  
  
Harry thought about where he had been that afternoon. There was no way he could have given them a day's notice on this one, after all he had no way of knowing that the Granger family was moving in to the house at 18 Wisteria Walk before he had received an owl the previous evening from Hermione telling him that all her talk about moving for the past month had, in fact, been serious, that she had moved into her new house, and that she had heard rumours that he had new neighbours. Putting two and two together, along with Hermione's wit, Harry had realised exactly who his new neighbours were. He had gone out that afternoon to give his friend a housewarming.  
  
"I was visiting a friend from Hogwa- from my school."  
  
"You know bloody well that you're the only one of those freaks in Little Whinging," Vernon replied, "besides certain suspicions I have." And he cast a long glare at his wife.  
  
"She just moved in yesterday. She's the only witch in her family; her parents are both Mugg- non-magical."  
  
"I see where this is all coming from," Dudley said, finally making his oversized presence known. "Little Harry didn't want to tell mum and dad that he was visiting his little whore of a girlfriend. It's Something Granger, right?" At this statement, Harry and Vernon both looked up in suspicion.  
  
"How the hell do you know that name," Vernon asked nervously.  
  
"I came across some old letters from her," Dudley said quickly. Vernon seemed placated by this explanation. Harry, however, was starting to connect things in his head. Colin and Dennis Creevy were Muggleborn brothers in Hogwarts, meaning that it wasn't unheard of for muggle families to have multiple magical offspring, in his fourth year Harry had received a single tissue from his aunt for Christmas shortly after Rita Skeeter's article about him crying over his dead mother had been published, in his fifth year there was the her extensive knowledge of Dementors and Azkaban and Dumbledore's message about 'his last', then the recent Patronus revelation and now Dudley somehow knew the contents of Skeeter's second article from the year of the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
-----  
  
That night, Harry wasn't able to sleep over the Dursleys' loud argument. "Why me," he said, "why couldn't some other poor sap have been the boy-who- lived-to-lose-everyone-around-him?" He sighed as the clock passed midnight. "I wish that some other bastard had to live life with this Boy- Who-Lived crap and the Prophecy hanging over him." Harry didn't notice the shooting star flying by outside and even forgot that it had been July thirtieth that day. Harry didn't even realise that he had made a wish at the exact second his birthday had arrived. Harry finally got to sleep minutes after.  
  
-----  
  
"Wakey wakey, sleepy head." Harry awoke to the sound of an unfamiliar voice of a young girl. The first thing he noticed was that, for the first time in months, he couldn't feel any pain in his scar. The second thing he realised, upon touching his forehead, was that the reason he couldn't feel any pain in his scar was because he didn't have the scar. One thing still bothered him, though.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"What are you talking about, Harry? Don't you remember me? Don't you recognize your own sister?"  
  
"No, I had a really strange dream and I'm still kind of disoriented. Do you mind reminding me of your name?"  
  
"Okay, Harry, it's your birthday, not April Fools," the girl said, "but I'll play along anyways. I'm Samantha, your sister. Happy eleventh birthday, big brother. Now hurry up before dad and Sirius decide to wake you up their own way."  
  
Harry was shocked. His parents were still alive, Sirius Black was alive and a free man, he had a sister, and the scar was gone. He had gotten his wish; he wasn't the Boy Who Lived anymore. He was just an ordinary boy, ready to begin his education at Hogwarts. Harry reacted to this revelation the only way he could. He fainted.

As Harry awoke, memories from his new life came back to him. Samantha or Sam, as she preferred to be called, was, in fact, his sister. She was a year younger than him, born at midnight on December twelfth. She had her mother's looks right down to the green eyes, which seemed to be a dominant trait. His mother was the Potions Mistress at Hogwarts. His father and the other Marauders – which didn't include Pettigrew (who had never been accepted), but Snape whose nickname was Hood and form was a King Cobra – owned a joke shop that would put Zonko's to shame. Lily was completely unaware, but James and the other Marauders were secretly teaching Harry and his best friends to be the next great pranksters at Hogwarts.

Harry's best friends were Ron, Hermione, and Draco Malfoy, who was the new Boy-Who-Lived. After Draco's parents had been killed, he had gone to live with his closest, living, non-Death Eater relative, Sirius. As a result of this, he hadn't been brought up indoctrinated in Pureblood mania and was, in fact, a nice boy. They had met Hermione two years ago when she had somehow wound up in Diagon Alley and looked completely lost, and they had gotten on well, although her bookishness did occasionally get on the boys' nerves.

"Hurry up, or we'll eat all the food." Harry was snapped out of his new memories by Sam's threat. He knew she wouldn't be able to, for his birthday his mother made enough food to feed an army, but he still hurriedly got dressed and rushed down the stairs.

"About time you got up, Harry," said Ron, who had already arrived along with the rest of the Junior Marauders, "we were about to start without you."

After breakfast Harry opened the gifts from his friends. The first one he picked up was Hermione's, which was heavy and rectangular. "Three guesses what it is," Draco said under his breath, "and the first two don't count. Harry unwrapped the package to see the words 'Hogwarts: A History' written across the top of a large book.

"I hope you like it, Harry," Hermione began. "I haven't read it myself yet, but from what Blaise tells me it's supposed to be fascinating, and you know how I trust his word on books." Blaise Zabini, Harry discovered in his new memories, was more of a bookworm than Hermione. Unsurprisingly, he was her best friend, if only because of their common interest. Looking at the book, Harry was barely able to keep himself from laughing, remembering all the times that Hermione had quoted to him from that very book during the five years at Hogwarts that hadn't happened in this world.

"Mine next," Ron said, shoving the package into Harry's arms. Harry unwrapped it to find a chest containing a full set of Quidditch balls. "I figured," Ron said as Harry opened the chest to get a look at the balls, "that with that unused pitch out back you might appreciate this." Harry closed the chest back up and thanked Ron.

Finally, Harry opened Draco's package. He was absolutely shocked to unwrap a Nimbus 2000 broomstick. "Why are you so surprised," Draco asked. "You remember that I got them for Ron and Herms on their birthdays, don't you?" More memories came into Harry's head. Draco had indeed given the other two Nimbus broomsticks on their respective birthdays. Hermione in this world, unlike the Hermione he knew, had taken to flying like a duck to water. Harry also remembered when Draco had started referring to Hermione as 'Herms' because he was having trouble pronouncing her name. Of course, Draco had an easier time now, but the name had kind of stuck.

"Hurry it up you four," Sam yelled to them. "The Marauders are taking us to Diagon Alley today, remember?" Sam grabbed a handful of Floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, shouted out "Magical Mischief," and vanished in green flames. One by one, Hermione, Draco and Ron followed her lead until, at last, it was Harry's turn.

Harry took a handful of the powder and stepped into the fireplace. In this world, he had apparently used Floo Powder correctly too many times to count, but in the world he knew he had only used it twice, and once it had taken him to Knockturn Alley, a place that decent wizards and witches avoided as if their lives depended on it.

Harry threw the powder and shouted out "Magical Mayhem." Before Harry could even realize his mistake, he found himself coming out of a fireplace in a dodgy-looking bookshop. Harry ducked out of sight as a woman he recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange picked up a book on Blood Magic. Harry covered his forehead, only to remember that no one knew who Harry Potter was in this world and he didn't have his scar.

Harry walked casually out the door and found himself in a deserted alley. He turned back, but the door was gone. There were no other doors, and the only thing on the ground was a bunch of rubbish. Harry started thinking, how would all this rubbish get here unless- unless they were Portkeys. Harry looked through the rubbish and eventually found something that he thought might take him where he needed to go, an empty package of Dungbombs with "M" across the front. Harry grabbed the box and immediately felt a familiar tug at his navel.

"We were wondering when you'd turn up, Harry," the voice of Sirius Black said from behind Harry. Harry turned around to see his friends and the Marauders.

"What took you so long, Harry," Sam asked him.

"I said the wrong word and wound up in some strange bookshop."

"Ah," said a smiling James Potter, "got yourself into old Grindy's in Etern Alley, did you?"

"Grindy? As in Grindel-"Ron covered Harry's mouth before he could finish.

"Yes, Harry, as in him, and I really wish you and Draco weren't so bloody cavalier with the names of dark lords."

"But Dumbledore defeated him almost fifty years ago, how can he be alive and owning a dark magic bookshop?"

"He's still alive," Snape (Severus, Harry reminded himself) said, "but since Dumbledore defeated him he just barely has more power than a Squib."

"Hood," James said to Severus, "one of us is going to have to stay behind while we take the Next Generation out shopping."

"Fine, Prongs, I'll stay behind and watch for any customers." And the group left the shop and headed out into the alley.

After a stop in Gringotts, where Harry briefly caught sight of Hagrid (probably going to pick up the Philosopher's Stone) before getting into the cart with the others, the group were trying to decide how to blow the money they had just gotten. The conversation turned into bickering, and the bickering to a loud argument. Finally, Sirius said "Enough! Since it's Harry's birthday, he gets to choose where we go first."

"So, where to first," Remus asked.

Harry thought for a minute before replying "Eyelops Owl Emporium."

They headed into the shop, where Harry found himself surrounded by Eagle Owls, Great Horned Owls, Barn Owls, and every other kind of owl you can imagine. Harry looked around before he recognized the owl he was looking for; the Snowy Owl that he knew from his world as Hedwig. Harry took her up to the front and James paid for her. The cage then vanished due to a Homing Charm placed by Sirius. Harry laughed slightly as he saw, before it vanished, that Ron had picked up a hyperactive Barn Owl, while Draco had picked out a majestic Eagle Owl.

"Alright," Remus said, "where to now?"

Hermione immediately spoke up. "Flourish and Blotts." Harry, Ron and Draco groaned. "Honestly, it wouldn't kill you to do something you have to before-"

"Silencio." Sirius cast a silencing charm on Hermione. "Now, did anyone hear anything?"

"No," was the unanimous response from the children who could still speak.

"Then there wouldn't be any objections to stopping in at the Magical Menagerie, would there?"

Again, the reply was a resounding "No". Sirius took the charm off Hermione as the group headed towards the shop.

"That was a dirty trick Sirius Black."

"You expected anything less from the sneakiest of the Marauders?"

-----DM-----

So, this is the first chapter. It establishes some of the most major changes that Harry's wish caused. I know it's still Harry-centric, but that will change soon.

It may seem that a bit too much is different for a simple "one thing is changed" AU, but the changes will all make sense in the end. Well, actually, by the end of book 3, but you know what I mean. Now.

Not much to say at this point, except that I, like all authors, thrive on reviews, as it allows me to know that people are reading. Reviews not asking for major plot-points will be answered. Flames will be ignored or mocked, depending on the quality.

To keep you reading, I present a PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER

-----DM-----

"Harry, Draco, what do you find so bloody fascinating about those snakes," Ron asked.

Harry turned to face Ron. "You wouldn't understand, Ron. Believe me."

"Try me."

Draco smirked at Ron, then said, "If you must know, we were in the middle of a rather interesting conversation." This stopped Ron dead in his tracks.

"You're a- you're both- you were-"Ron suddenly took a great interest in the half-Kneasel kittens.

-----DM-----

Isn't that interesting? No? Well, I tried. Also in the next chapter: wand shopping. Don't miss it.


	2. Familiars and familiar faces

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
Chapter 2: Familiars and Familiar Faces  
  
Much to his surprise, Harry could hear an argument going on in the back of the Magical Menagerie.  
  
There's no possible way that's him.  
  
I'm telling you, I was there when the Talker fell, and that's definitely him.  
  
Prove it. Harry had now pinpointed the source of the fight; a snake case at the back of the shop. But, that would mean that he was still a Parselmouth even though Draco was the Boy Who Lived.  
  
You see that mark? That's where the Talker's curse hit him before it backfired.  
  
Draco walked up to the case from beside Harry and said Yes, it's me.  
  
The snakes all looked at Draco. You speak too?  
  
Yes, I speak too.  
  
Harry walked up to the case. As do I, he said.  
  
Of course you do. Three snakes popped their heads out from under a rock. The one in the middle spoke again. One can only expect the heir of the First Speaker to speak. Harry wasn't sure why, but he was reminded of Luna Lovegood's head-in-the-clouds airy nature.  
  
Heir of the First Speaker, the one on the left said, You must be joking.  
  
I am merely the Dreamer, not the Comic.  
  
He is indeed the Heir of the First Speaker, the snake on the right said.  
  
And the Planner finally rears her ugly head, the snake on the left said.  
  
Look into his eyes and you will see his bloodline, the snake on the right said. He does indeed have the blood of the First Speaker, Critic.  
  
So did the Talker, and he wasn't exactly someone you wanted to meet.  
  
Harry just stood there. Something about this seemed so familiar. Three snakes, Critic, Dreamer, and Planner, and a massive quarrel seemed to be brewing between the three.  
  
"Harry, Draco, what do you find so bloody fascinating about those snakes," Ron asked.  
  
Harry turned to face Ron. "You wouldn't understand, Ron. Believe me."  
  
"Try me."  
  
Draco smirked at Ron, then said, "If you must know, we were in the middle of a rather interesting conversation." This stopped Ron dead in his tracks.  
  
"You're a- you're both- you were-"Ron suddenly took a great interest in the half-Kneasel kittens.  
  
Who was that red-furred human, the Dreamer asked.  
  
That's Ronald Weasley, Harry answered. He's a friend of ours.  
  
He seems like a bit of a fool to me, said the Critic.  
  
You think all humans are fools, the Planner replied, until they prove themselves to you.  
  
I have seen no evidence to the contrary. Every human I have spoken to has been vain and even evil.  
  
Other people's pasts have nothing to do with me, Draco said in a contemptuous voice, only my past, present and future. And in my past, I defeated the Talker. Now, come out so we can get a good look at you. The three snakes crawled out from under the rock, to reveal that they only had one body between them.  
  
"Draco," Harry said, "it's a Runespoor."  
  
"You hadn't figured that out already? I mean three heads poke out at the same time and one's so obnoxious you just want to chop it off-"  
  
"Sirius," Harry said, calling his godfather over, "I've decided what I want for my birthday." Sirius came over and saw the three-headed snake.  
  
"A Runespoor? Harry, that's a four-X dark creature."  
  
"Not because it's exceptionally dangerous or evil," Harry quoted from 'Fantastic Beasts,' "but because it is known to imbue Parselmouths with knowledge."  
  
"What's the difference, Parselmouths are almost always Dark Wizards."  
  
"Almost always," Harry said in English, then hissed out but not always. After his godfather recovered from his shock, Harry started again in English. "I'm sure it couldn't hurt for me to have some knowledge. And if I happen to prevent a real Dark Wizard from getting it in the process, then so be it."  
  
Sirius stared at his Godson, before reaching into the tank, pulling out the three-headed snake, and saying "you'll make quite the Marauder some day, Harry."  
  
"Hey, you!" A shout came from the other side of the store and Harry turned around to find Hermione facing a boy who reminded him strongly of a troll. Vincent Crabbe, Harry realised.  
  
"What seems to be the problem here," the shopkeeper asked.  
  
"Nothing, sir," Crabbe said unusually quickly. "I was just trying to feed these toads and this crazy girl suddenly started yelling at me."  
  
"Feeding the toads? That's your story is it?"  
  
"And what happened from your point of view, miss-"  
  
"Granger, sir. Hermione Granger. I was over there looking at the cats when I saw this boy acting suspiciously by the toads. I came over in time to see him pull an egg, a chicken egg if I'm not mistaken, out of his bag and try to place it in with the toads."  
  
"You take back that lie, Mudblood."  
  
"Sir," Draco said, backing up Hermione's story, "who do you believe, someone with absolutely no reason to lie, or Vincent Crabbe Junior?" Harry noticed the way Draco spat out the name of the boy.  
  
The shopkeeper pulled out his wand and pointed it at Crabbe's bag. "Accio Egg." Sure enough, a chicken egg flew straight to the man's hand. "I can't believe you, Vincent," the man said, furious, "trying to hatch a Basilisk in my shop. You are never to come back in here again."  
  
Crabbe stormed out the door in a rage after shooting Hermione a hateful glance and saying "You'll pay for this, Mudblood. You don't know who you're messing with." Harry immediately realised that Crabbe in this world was much more clever and evil than Draco in his world.  
  
The shopkeeper turned to Hermione. "You saved my business and likely my life, Miss Granger. Anything you and your friends want is yours."  
  
"Thank you, mister-"  
  
"Goyle. George Goyle. You know, I have a son about your age. Maybe you'll meet him at Hogwarts." The man turned to Draco. "Ah, and you must be Draco Malfoy. Your father and I were old friends. It's really a shame what happened to him."  
  
"No," Draco replied, "It's not. I didn't really know my father, but from what I've heard he was a right bastard."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about, Draco. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doesn't kill his servants for the hell of it. Your father obviously did something which he felt was unforgivable to his cause."  
  
"Say whatever you want. The man was a bloody Death Eater, and that's all I need to know."  
  
"Believe what you will, Draco. But some day, the truth will come out."  
  
"And the second it does, I'll apologise for this conversation."  
  
The five each left the store with a pet; Hermione clutching large ginger cat with a squashed-in face, Harry with the Runespoor, Draco with a viper coiled around his arm, Ron holding a very scabby-looking rat despite Harry's attempts to make him take a different pet, and Sam with a tiny black kitten that couldn't have been weaned more than a week ago. After the group had received their various pets, Sam went back into The Marauders' Magical Mischief Supply Shoppe and flooed back to the Potter house in Godric's Hollow. The Marauders then took the children to get their school supplies, stopping last at Ollivander's.  
  
"So, who's first," the old wizard asked. Hermione stepped forward. "Ah, you must be Muggleborn, since you don't resemble any wizarding families." The enchanted tape took all of Hermione's measurements, then looking over the information, Ollivander handed Hermione a wand. "Nine inches, Silver birch, Unicorn Hair core. A good all-around wand." Hermione waved the wand and a shower of multicoloured sparks flew out. "Well, it appears I've gotten it right the first time. That's a rare occurrence. So, who's next?"  
  
Harry stepped forward and Ollivander talked about having sold both his parents their wands while the tape took Harry's measurements. Finally, Ollivander handed Harry a wand. "Twelve inches, Pine with a Dragon Heartstring core." Harry waved the wand, but didn't get any result. "Very well. Like I told your friend, it's rare that I get it right the first time. Try this one. Eight-and-a-half inches, Yew, with a Phoenix Feather core. A powerful wand." Harry shook the wand, nervous from the numerous parallels between Voldemort's wand and the one he was being handed. Instantly, a green Patronus-like shade of a snake emerged. "That's interesting," Ollivander said, "but I suppose it's to be expected."  
  
Ron went next and received a twelve-inch Oak wand with a Unicorn Hair core. Harry remembered Ron saying before second year that you could see the unicorn hair poking through. Finally, it was time for Draco to get his wand.  
  
"Ah, young Draco Malfoy. And-"Olivander's eyes wandered to the scar, "and that must be where he- sorry to say I sold the wand that gave you that scar. Thirteen-and-a-half inches, Yew. Very powerful. If I had known what that wand was going out into the world to do- but, no use crying over spilt potions. Hold out your wand hand." As the magical tape measure zoomed over Draco's body, Harry couldn't help thinking that he already knew which wand Draco was going to receive. Eleven inches, Holly, with a Phoenix Feather core – Fawkes' tail feather, to be exact.  
  
"We'll start with your father's combination, eleven inches, Ebony with a Dragon Heartstring core." Draco shook the wand, but nothing happened. "No? Then try this. Nine inches, Cherry wood with a Unicorn Hair core." Still nothing. This went on for a while until finally, Ollivander asked quietly "could it be?" and pulled out a wand that looked very familiar to Harry. "Try this. Eleven inches, Holly, with a Phoenix Feather core." Draco waved the wand and a shower of gold sparks flew out. "Funny how these things work out," Ollivander said in a mysterious voice.  
  
"What do you mean by that," Draco asked. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Every wand I sell is unique, and the Phoenix who gave up his tail feather for that wand only gave two feathers for wand making. One resides inside the wand that has chosen you, the other was last seen at Malfoy Manor, or what was left of the manor, in front of a crying, scarred baby."  
  
"You mean-"  
  
"The source of power for your wand and the wand of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named are one and the same. I think we can expect great things from you, Mr Malfoy. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."  
  
Draco looked like he was going to be sick. "How can you say such a thing? Tell me by which twisted definition of the word the coward who tried to murder a helpless baby, and failed even at that menial task, is considered great? Tell me one thing he ever did for the world."  
  
James paid for the wands and the new students left through the door.  
  
"I can't believe this," Draco was practically screaming. "How can a respected wandmaker possibly consider Voldemort to have done great things?"  
  
"Calm down, Draco," Hermione said, "he probably meant 'great' as in 'on a grand scale,' not as in 'very good'."  
  
"Or maybe he just feels that Voldemort had the right idea to get rid of Muggleborns, but he did terrible things to get his way. Don't you remember what a fuss he made about your being Muggleborn, Herms?"  
  
"Now just a second, Draco," Harry said, "that man has been selling wands to students of all kinds since before our parents or even our grandparents were born. You have no right to assume that he is an ally of Voldemort."  
  
"All I'm saying is there's something odd about him."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," Harry said, "next you'll be suspecting old Tom in the Leaky Cauldron because of his n-"Harry realised in mid-sentence that the name Tom Riddle was not widely known.  
  
"Because of what, Harry," Ron asked.  
  
"Because of nothing, the exact same reason that Draco distrusts Mr Ollivander."  
  
-----DM-----  
  
Well, let's get to business here. I crave reviews. Nay, I need reviews to live. I will not put up the next chapter until – nah, I'm yanking your chain. I would never resort to that cheap crap.  
  
This chapter was rewritten since I first started working on it. It originally had several references to plot points which have since been dropped and it gave away too much for this early in the story (as in the modifications to the plot, not the basic plot which anyone reading this can basically recite)  
  
Believe it or not, Harry's 'Tom' mistake was actually in the of this chapter. I didn't add it at the last minute as a way to conclude the chapter, it was simply a way of showing Harry's confusion between the world he knows and the 'new' world.  
  
You didn't ask for it, but you've got it anyways. PREVIEW  
  
-----DM-----  
  
The door on the other side of the cabin opened and someone walked in. "I was wondering where all the vermin were hiding," a cold voice said. "And here we go. Four weasels, Scarface, a Potty and a Mudblood."  
  
"Go away, Crabbe," Hermione said in a menacing tone.  
  
"Now, do I listen to the advice of the Mudblood who foiled my plans against that blood-traitor Goyle, or do I do something to her," Crabbe moved closer to Hermione and said in an even more malicious voice, "that she'll never forget?" And he grabbed Hermione's arm, trying to pull her into the toilet.  
  
-----DM-----  
  
Holy hell! You don't want to miss this one, people. Well, maybe you do. But probably not. 


	3. From London to Hogwarts

Chapter 3 From London to Hogwarts  
  
"Wake up Harry."  
  
"Just another hour, Sam."  
  
"Fine," Sam said in a mischievious voice, "but don't blame me when you miss it."  
  
"Miss what?"  
  
"Never mind, go back to bed. I'm sure Hogwarts is overrated anyways."  
  
Harry's head shot up from his pillow. "Hogwarts?" Had the month of August really gone by that quickly?  
  
"Yeah, you know, the Wizarding school you've been dreaming about since your tenth birthday."  
  
Harry was up and dressed in what seemed like seconds. Harry ran downstairs to see all of both the Senior and Junior Marauders waiting for him.  
  
"About time you got down, Harry," Sirius said, holding a paper with the headline 'Pettigrew Still at Large' and the familiar rat-like wizard staring out in what looked like genuine confusion. "We were worried that we were going to have to get you up ourselves."  
  
"And give the JM an official Marauders Lesson in Pranking," James chimed in.  
  
"But unfortunately you ruined all our fun," said a smiling Snape- Severus, Harry reminded himself again.  
  
After breakfast, Remus drove the new students and the Marauders to King's Cross Station.  
  
"You know," Harry said, "you didn't all need to come here."  
  
"Yes we did," Sirius replied, "to be sure that you have our personal warning to not let this fall into the right hands." Sirius reached into his bag and pulled out what appeared to be a blank parchment.  
  
"Is that," Draco began, "is that the Map?"  
  
"It's actually a duplicate," Remus said.  
  
"Old Filch took the original from Padfoot," Severus explained.  
  
"But we couldn't let the Next Generation go to Hogwarts without one," Sirius said.  
  
"So we put together another one," James explained.  
  
Ron quickly grabbed the parchment and unrolled it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said activating it as they had been told in the past. Immediately the writing came up.  
  
"Messrs Moony, Hood, Padfoot and Prongs, purveyors of magical mischief proudly present: The Marauders' Map." The writing then vanished and the familiar map of Hogwarts appeared. The only people identified on the map were the teachers and Filch (who was labelled as "Git").  
  
"What's in that blank space," Hermione asked, noticing a space with a door that led to nowhere. Without even looking, Harry knew that this was the third floor corridor.  
  
"I don't know," Remus said truthfully. "Dumbledore must have added some new Anti-Detection spell."  
  
"It always showed up properly before," Sirius added, "on the old map and when we tested this one."  
  
"Much to the chagrin of Prongs and Lily, who thought they had found a private spot where no one could find them," Severus added.  
  
"Yes, I still owe you for that one, don't I, Snivellus," James asked in a slightly malicious tone.  
  
"Hey, it wasn't my idea, it was Moony's."  
  
"You were still the serpent who came slithering in and scared the pants off her."  
  
"Oh, like they were staying on much longer anyways." Harry suddenly had an urge to get out of the car as quickly as possible.  
  
"Wait, Harry, don't go," James said.  
  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"At least don't go without this." James gave Harry a small silver bowl. "Sorry it took so long, but I had to find it first," James said. Then, seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he explained, "It's a Pensieve. It looks small, but it works just like any other one and holds just as much. That baby contains some of our finest pranks from Hogwarts and has plenty of room for the next generation. I trust you already know the activation and deactivation codes. Happy belated birthday."  
  
Harry tapped the bowl and said "Mischief Managed" and the pensieve transformed into a silver quill with "MHPP" written vertically on it.  
  
The students got out of the car and found platform 9 ¾.  
  
"Remember what Padfoot told us," Ron said, "Just don't worry about crashing into the wall and you'll be fine." And Ron took off running towards the wall. He vanished, and Harry couldn't help wondering how the muggles around them couldn't see hundreds of school-age children running at top speed into the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Draco, Harry and Hermione followed Ron, all vanishing through the barrier.  
  
The four friends were putting their things away when Ron realised a problem. "We're not allowed to have our own broomsticks," he said, worried. Thinking quickly, Harry took the four Nimbus broomsticks and cast a shrinking charm on them.  
  
"Out of sight, out of mind," Harry said as he took his now miniature broom, tucked it into his pocket and handed the other Junior Marauders theirs.  
  
Once they were aboard the Hogwarts express, problems started. Crookshanks started hissing violently at Ron's as-of-yet nameless rat.  
  
"Hermione, keep that bloody cat away from my rat."  
  
"Ron, Crookshanks is perfectly harmless. Besides, that fat rat of yours is almost as big as Crookshanks."  
  
Harry sighed. Somehow, he knew, this would all boil over sooner or later. He just hoped that Crookshanks actually killed the rat this time.  
  
What's wrong, young Heir, Harry's Runespoor asked. Although Harry couldn't see which head it was, he had the strangest feeling that it was the Dreamer.  
  
I just know so much that I can't let the others know about.  
  
Why, don't you trust your friends? That had to be the Planner.  
  
Yes, but I can't just tell them everything that's going to happen in the next five years.  
  
And why not, what's wrong with telling them about their fate?  
  
Because I don't want them to become suspicious. If I was able to predict events for five years and then lost my powers beyond that they would know something was wrong.  
  
I see. Well, why don't you just give them a push in the right direction now and then.  
  
Harry looked up to see Draco and Ron engaged in a game of Wizard's Chess. "Bishop to E1." Harry watched as Ron's black Bishop smashed Draco's white Knight. "Checkmate. Care to play again?"  
  
"What's the point, you always win, Weasley."  
  
"How about Exploding Snap then?"  
  
"Oh no you don't, Ronald Weasley," Hermione warned, "Some of us are trying to read."  
  
There was an explosion from the other side of the cabin door. Harry opened the door to see two red-haired boys laughing over another. Harry was about to pull out his wand when he recognized the boys.  
  
"Fred and George, so we meet again."  
  
"Well, it's the Heirs to Mischief."  
  
"So good to see you again, Ronniekins."  
  
"We were afraid you'd gotten onto the wrong train."  
  
"Don't mind Percy, he's just taking a short-"  
  
"ten hour-"  
  
"forced nap-"  
  
"to take a break-"  
  
"from being an enormous prat." They finished in unison.  
  
"Well, I suppose he needs one once every fifteen years or so," Ron replied.  
  
The door on the other side of the cabin opened and someone walked in. "I was wondering where all the vermin were hiding," a cold voice said. "And here we go. Four weasels, Scarface, a Potty and a Mudblood."  
  
"Go away, Crabbe," Hermione said in a menacing tone.  
  
"Now, do I listen to the advice of the Mudblood who foiled my plans against that blood-traitor Goyle, or do I do something to her," Crabbe moved closer to Hermione and said in an even more malicious voice, "that she'll never forget?" And he grabbed Hermione's arm, trying to pull her into the toilet.  
  
"Now really, Crappe-"  
  
"Do you really want to try something like that-"  
  
"In front of two third year students-"  
  
"Who know several unpleasant hexes-"  
  
"And wouldn't hesitate to use them-"  
  
"Against scum like you?"  
  
"Or should we wake the Pratfect, George?"  
  
"Well, one's fun and the other brings Percy back to consciousness."  
  
"You're right, what was I thinking?"  
  
Fred and George both turned to face Crabbe, wands out.  
  
"Forget this," Crabbe said, releasing his grip on the still struggling Hermione, "you're not worth it, Mudblood." And he walked off with an air to him that would make a Dementor quiver with fear.  
  
"Bloody hell," Ron said as soon as Crabbe was out of earshot, "what the hell is with him?"  
  
"Who knows," Draco replied, "and who cares as long as we're not stuck with him."  
  
Harry ran over to Hermione. "Hermione, are you okay?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione replied, "but I'm certainly glad he gave up when he did. I was starting to lose energy when he finally gave up. What could make someone so cruel?"  
  
Harry quickly realised exactly how wrong he had been in applying the labels of cruel and evil to the Draco Malfoy he knew. Compared with this intelligent Crabbe, he was a pussycat. With memories of the people he knew from his world still in his head, Harry fell asleep on the train.  
  
-----DM-----  
  
Okay, starting to drop hints left and right on this one. See if you can guess what's going to be important (besides the obvious) and what's just detail at this point.  
  
In an early version of this chapter, the Marauders' second gift was the invisibility cloak, instead of the official Marauders' Pensieve. This idea was scrapped, however, as I realised that if they had the cloak at this point a certain key discovery wouldn't be made.  
  
No, Crabbe was not trying THAT on Hermione. He is evil, but not that twisted... yet. He was intending to take her somewhere that people couldn't interfere with the brutal beating/hexing he had planned for the girl he held accountable for his earlier failure.  
  
This is usually the point where I post the NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW, but there's not too much I could do that would be interesting and not give away too much. Anyways, it's the Sorting next, and there's not too much excitement there anyways. (Although it does switch to Draco-centric narration next chapter.) Well, just read the next chapter and hopefully I won't have to babble like this again 


	4. The Sorting Hat

Chapter 4

The Sorting

Note: The second half of this chapter is a normal, boring sorting ceremony. Please read the first half, but if you don't want to read through the tedious ceremony then you can skip straight to the author's notes at the end, where I will have a summary of the changes to the sort (assume that anyone not mentioned is in their usual house)

Draco woke Harry up as the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.

"Firs' years, firs' years this way."

Draco traced the voice to a huge hairy man who was nine feet tall if he was an inch.

"Right then, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Grounds an' Keys at Hogwarts. Yeh better keep an eye on me if yeh wanna get ter Hogwarts."

"Like we could lose sight of him," Draco heard Ron mutter under his breath.

The entire group of first years followed Hagrid to the boats.

"Hurry it up, don' have all day yeh know. Four to a boat."

The four friends got into a boat together.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid called from the boat he occupied alone. "Right, then – FORWARD!" The boats all started to move on their own. On the ride over, Draco noticed a chubby boy searching desperately through his boat for something. Eventually, however, Draco grew bored with the boy's search and turned his attention to Hogwarts, which was drawing ever nearer. Eventually, the boats docked in an underground harbour in a dark tunnel.

As Draco got out, he could hear the boy asking people if they had seen his toad. The boy looked overjoyed as Hagrid reached into one of the boats and pulled out a toad. He grabbed the toad and clutched it as if his life depended on it.

Again they followed Hagrid, this time up to the castle doors. Hagrid banged on the door three times with such force that when it opened Draco half expected it to collapse. Instead it remained on its hinges and opened to show a tall, black-haired witch in emerald robes.

The witch, who the student quickly learned was Professor McGonagall, led them into a small empty chamber, where she explained to them about Hogwarts, the Sorting, the houses and the house cup.

McGonagall shortly left, leaving the first years to wonder about the Sorting. "How do you think they do it," Draco heard Toad-boy ask a dirty-blonde haired witch who seemed to be younger than the others.

"No idea. My father refused to tell me. He said something about a 'Fidelity Charm,' or some such thing. He hinted something about my head, so I'm guessing it involves a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. They can read minds, you know." Draco wasn't sure why, but he could swear he heard Harry mutter something like 'this isn't right.'

Draco walked up to the girl. "Excuse me," he said. She turned to face him, and he could see her protuberant pale blue eyes and her Butterbeer bottle cap necklace.

"You're Draco Malfoy," she told him.

"Thank you, I knew that."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," she told him.

"Well, Luna, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and what exactly is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"

"Well, I've never seen one myself, but my father says that they're magnificent beasts."

"My friend looked over at you and said that something was wrong."

"Well, he was right. I was surprised when I got my letter this year, I thought it would be coming next year – my eleventh birthday isn't until the fifth, you know." She took her wand out from behind her ear and twirled it around a bit before putting it back. "Must be those Kalfords causing mischief. They need to rearrange official documents like most beings need to eat."

Draco nodded at this exceptionally odd statement, then walked back over to his friends. McGonagall soon came back into the chamber. "Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to begin. Now form a line and follow me." McGonagall led then into the massive Great Hall. Draco looked around, taking in the splendour of the hall. Everything from the ceiling, which emulated the sky, to the thousands of floating candles practically, screamed "Difficult Charms." The charm to levitate the candles wasn't difficult, but the charm to keep items floating in mid-air was another story. McGonagall pulled a stool and an old wizard's hat seemingly out of nowhere.

"Do we have to pull a rabbit out of it," a tall black boy, obviously Muggleborn, asked his sandy-haired friend.

"Nah," his friend replied in a heavy Scottish accent. "That's just a Muggle misconception. Don't really care about rabbits, they're not even allowed as Familiars."

"Then what do-"the boy was interrupted when the hat sitting on the stool burst into song. Draco didn't pay much attention to the song, picking up only the description of the houses (Gryffindor: brave, Hufflepuff: loyal, Ravenclaw: smart, Slytherin: ambitious) and that they had to put the hat on.

Draco started paying attention again as McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put the hat on and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said before calling the first student. "Abbott, Hannah!"

McGonagall placed the hat on the head of a blonde-haired girl with pigtails. After a moment, it shouted out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW"

Draco was beginning to lose interest. He only looked up again as he noticed the last girl called had been Bulstrode, which meant that C was coming soon.

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

Crabbe hadn't even reached the stool when the hat shouted out in what seemed like disgust "SLYTHERIN!"

"Dursley, Dudley!"

Draco noticed Harry flinch and figured this could be interesting.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Nope, just another bloody Hufflepuff.

"That was my cousin," Harry whispered to Draco. "I thought he was- "

"A Squib?"

"No, he's my cousin from my mother's side. My mother's Muggleborn, like Hermione. I thought he would be a Muggle."

"Quiet, Potter," Draco said, seeing a familiar head of bushy brown hair over the crowd, "Herms is up."

The hat sat on Hermione's head for about a minute before shouting out "GRYFFINDOR!" Draco stopped paying attention, looking up just in time to see Toad-boy sorted into Gryffindor. "Lovegood, Luna." Draco watched as the odd young girl became a Gryffindor and "MacDougal, Morag" became a Slytherin.

"Malfoy, Draco." At last, the moment of truth had come. Draco walked up to McGonagall, sat down on the stool, and had the hat placed on his head.

"Ah, a Malfoy. Well, it's been a while since I've sorted one of you. You know, Slytherin was your dad's old house. Hmm, this is interesting. A familiar not allowed by the school – a snake, no less – and the gift of Salazar. Oh, and what's this? Yes, a Slytherin in every way. Not an arrogant pureblood enthusiast, but it couldn't hurt too much," the hat told Draco.

"Father's old house? From what I've heard, that's as good a reason as any for me to resist. I don't care about my family's legacy, only that Crabbe is in that house and he's willing to kill me for surviving the attack."

"But there's so much, you'd do well in Slytherin, there's no doubt."

"If I survived a night in the same room as Crabbe, maybe."

"Very well, then. It's a distant second, but if you insist then I'll have to go with some of the bravery you've shown in the past. GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco went over to the long table, where he sat beside Hermione and waited for the Sorting to finish. He didn't really pay too much attention, only vaguely noticing when Harry sat on his other side.

Eventually, the list came around to "Weasley, Ronald!" The hat sat on Ron's head for nearly five minutes before finally sending him off to Slytherin. Draco noticed a shocked look on the faces of the twins as well as Percy. Finally, the Sorting ended with Blaise being sent to Ravenclaw.

---DM---

Yeah, the chapter was kind of boring, but it had to be done. Of course, I couldn't have given you the big surprise of the chapter (Luna) in the last preview, as I was keeping that one completely secret, and the rest was pretty much just the Sorting.

Since anything else I say will spoil some of this for those who skipped the actual sorting, here is the list of changes/additions

Dudley Dursley: Hufflepuff

Luna Lovegood: Gryffindor

Draco Malfoy: Gryffindor

Ronald Weasley: Slytherin

Blaise Zabini: Ravenclaw

Now then, Dudley will not, I repeat NOT be important in this story in any way. He's just there because I strongly believe that Dumbledore's 'last' was saying that Dudley would be spared from 'that world' if Petunia took Harry in. Since in this continuity Petunia's 'kindness' was not needed, the offer was never extended and Dudley's presence in Hogwarts is a reminder of the unexpected consequences of changes, nothing more.

Now you're wondering why I changed Luna's year for this one. Well, I just felt like it. I had some plot-twists planned out, and they just work best if Luna is in the same year as the other main characters.

I have a slight correction to make. When I said in the last chapter that Crabbe wasn't evil enough to attempt 'that' yet, the first time we met this boy he was trying to plant a Basilisk in a pet shop. He's definitely evil enough to try anything, but he's ELEVEN, for God's sake. Even if the thought had crossed his mind, the plumbing isn't hooked up properly yet.

You know you want it, so it's here: CHAPTER PREVIEW

---DM---

The Baron looked oddly at Harry. "Have we met before?"

"N-no sir."

"You just seem so... familiar. Like someone who sat at my table about twenty years ago. What's your name, boy?"

"H-Harry Potter."

"Potter, is it?" The Baron looked somewhat surprised. "Well, that would explain it."

"That can't be, I was always told my parents had been Gryffindors."

The Baron just laughed. "James Potter a Gryffindor? Right, and the stuttering fool they've brought in for Defence is the bleedin' Dark Lord!"

---DM---

Irony, thy name is the Draco Malfoy Series. Miss it and you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I guarantee it.

Not a guarantee.


	5. The Bloody Baron

Chapter 5

The Bloody Baron

"Before we begin," an old wizard, Dumbledore, Draco guessed, stood up and said, "I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak." All of the students looked around in confusion.

"Is he a bit mad," Ron asked quietly, barely noticing the food that had appeared on the table.

"If that was any indication of his sanity," Draco replied, grabbing a turkey drumstick, "then I'd say he's a bloody lunatic."

That conversation didn't go any further, as a ghost, covered in silver blood, floated up to them. "So," the ghost said menacingly, "you're the first years, are you?"

"Shouldn't you be at the Slytherin table, Baron," Percy asked.

"I couldn't help coming over here when I heard a Malfoy had ended up in the Lion's Den."

"And you would be," Toad-boy asked nervously."

"The Bloody Baron, Slytherin's house ghost. Believe me, back in the day there wouldn't have been anything odd about the Slytherin ghost at the Gryffindor table. Shame house rivalry's gotten so bad." The Baron looked oddly at Harry. "Have we met before?"

"N-no sir."

"You just seem so… familiar. Like someone who sat at my table about twenty years ago. What's your name, boy?"

Harry dropped his fork.

"Harry, sir."

"Your full name."

"H-Harry Potter."

"Potter, is it?" The Baron looked somewhat surprised. "Well, that would explain it."

Draco could see the meaning of these words beginning to sink in to his friend.

"That can't be, I was always told my parents had been Gryffindors."

The Baron just laughed. "James Potter a Gryffindor? Right, and the stuttering fool they've brought in for Defence is the bleedin' Dark Lord!" Hermione and Draco laughed at this assessment, but Harry was silent. "Well, don't let me keep you from your feast."

"Just one question, sir," Luna asked from her seat across from Harry.

"And what would that be?"

"How did you come to be like that?"

Several older students looked at Luna in shock. It was well known that the condition of the Bloody Baron was a taboo subject, and certainly Lionel Lovegood would have informed his daughter of this. The Baron himself looked darkly at Luna and replied, "Let's just say that an Auror's wand sometimes fails and he needs strong steel."

Everyone looked shocked.

"Yes, it was quite the fight. Old Nicholas was quite nearly decapitated."

"Nicholas," Draco asked.

"Yes, Nicholas, the Gryffindor house-ghost, better known as Nearly Headless Nick."

"Is that an ironic name?"

"No, years after that he was actually beheaded, but the executioner flinched at the last second and his head didn't quite come off. He really is 'nearly headless'." As if to prove the Baron's point, the ghost at the far end of the table tipped his head to the sandy-haired boy Draco had seen earlier.

"Well, sir, it was – odd – meeting you."

"You seem a good bunch, for recent Gryffindors. I'll warn Peeves to leave you alone." And with that, the Baron floated back to the Slytherin table.

"Peeves," Luna asked curiously.

"Hogwarts' resident poltergeist," Harry replied. "Real troublemaker. He can only be controlled by the Baron."

"And how do you know all this," Draco asked his friend.

"Prongs told me. Anytime I asked a question about Hogwarts, he would always explain it the best he could. Needless to say, Peeves and Filch figured highly in his discussions."

At the staff table, a witch who strongly reminded Draco of an insect looked over at the four friends. Over the turban of another Professor, her eyes caught Draco's and the boy felt a sharp pain in his forehead. "My scar," Draco said, rubbing his head "it just hurt."

"Just now," Hermione asked.

"Yes, just when I looked over at that witch. There's something up with her."

The witch continued to look oddly at Draco. Eventually, she stood up and walked over to Draco. "Ah, so you're the one who survived the attack, are you Mr. Malfoy?" Draco deliberately avoided eye contact with the strange witch. "Such a shame. Yes, it's a pity you won't survive this year." And she went back to the staff table.

"Who is that," Draco asked Percy.

"Professor Trelawney. She's our old bat of a Divination professor. Don't worry," he said, noticing the look on Draco's face, "she's a complete fraud and you won't have class with her until third year anyways."

"Oh, how wonderful," Draco said quietly to his friends. "In two years I have her to look forward to."

"If you don't die before then," Hermione replied, deadpan.

After the feast, Dumbledore had a series of announcements to make. "First years should note that the forest on our grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember this as well." Draco glanced over at the twins who were busy practicing their best 'innocent' looks. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, our caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Aren't we allowed to have any fun," Draco whispered to Hermione.

Dumbledore's speech continued. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"Quidditch," Hermione said to Draco. "That's fun, isn't it?"

"Sure, if you're allowed to play. But we're bloody first years."

"We're also the Junior Marauders. We'll find a way."

"And finally," Dumbledore added, ending his announcements, "I must tell you that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"That sounds like a challenge to me, Herms."

"I know what you mean, Drake. What would the Marauders think if we actually heeded such a warning?"

Draco smirked. Their corruption of the bookish young girl they had first met in Diagon Alley was a complete success.

Dumbledore said something about the school song, then summoned a scroll with large gold lettering. What followed was the most horrible musical cacophony Draco had ever heard, as the great hall burst into several hundred voices singing the same words to different melodies, and all at least slightly out of tune. The words couldn't be heard until the very end when the Twins could be heard singing to a funeral march "Just do your best, we'll do the rest/and learn until our brains all rot."

After the massacre of musical talent to rival Pop Idol, Percy led the group up to the Gryffindor common room. "Caput Draconus," he said to a portrait of an enormously fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Go right ahead." The portrait swung forward and revealed a round hole which Percy led the First Years through. "And congratulations on becoming a Prefect. I know you've been waiting since first year."

Draco was in awe as he looked around the Common Room. It had a warm feeling to it, like it was a massive living room. And the arm chairs didn't hurt that image at all.

"Okay, dorms are up those stairs. Boys on the left, girls on the right." Draco went upstairs with the rest of the boys. When they had settled into bed for the night, Draco's snake curled around one post of his bed and hung down.

Master, I must tell you something. 

Draco turned to the serpent. What is it, Cissy? Draco had named the serpent Narcissa after his mother, but called her 'Cissy' for short.

I sensed a terrible power at the staff table tonight. Almost as if the Talker was here himself. 

I know what you mean, Draco replied, rubbing his forehead.

A few beds over, Harry was having a conversation of his own with the Runespoor. Planner, I need your help. 

What is it, young Heir? 

I need to know how to get Draco on the right track. How to get his attention away from Trelawney and onto Quirrell. 

You could just tell him what you know. 

Oh, that's brilliant. 'Draco, I'm not the friend you think I am. I somehow ended up here from an alternate universe where I have the scar and you and I hate each other's guts. I lived out five years at Hogwarts there, so you'll just have to believe me. Anyways, the one who's after you isn't the suspicious witch you think it is, but the helpless, stuttering Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.' That would go over like a dungbomb in the middle of the Introductory Feast. 

I see. Then you might consider simple manipulation. Don't tell him what's happening; just drop hints every now and then that you could have simply picked up on yourself. 

DM

This chapter is being uploaded at the same time as Chapter 4 (and 6) to make up for my pause in submissions. I would like to say that I had a good reason, but that would be a total lie.

Please. If you read this, review. When authors don't get reviews we have no way of knowing whether anyone is reading their stories or if they're just writing for themselves. I don't care if you think it was the worst story you ever read, I just need to know that people are reading this story and I haven't wasted countless hours (more so than already known).

Even though the focus is currently on Draco, if a chapter requires it (or even a section, like at the end of this chapter) then the point of view can be temporarily switched. Expect to see this put to great use in later 'books'.

Not really necessary, since it's being published simultaneously, but PREVIEW. Well, sort of. Not really my work, but what's coming next.

DM

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST 

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

'_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokegoblin this afternoon._

DM

Yeah, and we all know who's responsible for that, don't we? Or are things going to get more twisted in the changes than you would think possible? All I'm going to say is you can't assume that everything that was is (or some seemingly deep nonsense). Keep reading, and PLEASE review.


	6. The First Day

Chapter 6

The First Day

"Where is he?"

"Between the Slytherin Weasley and the boy with glasses."

"You sure it's him?"

"Look at his hair. If he's not a Malfoy, I'll eat the Sorting Hat."

"And he has the scar."

"That too."

Draco was quite a popular topic of conversation in the halls. From the stories he had heard from others, he was glad the Baron had granted him protection from Peeves, who was apparently a malicious little prankster.

Draco wasn't protected, however, against Argus Filch. The caretaker had a mean streak like no other and he took a malicious pleasure in finding students breaking rules and waxed poetic about the 'good old days' when a student would be tortured for breaking school rules. Draco noticed that Filch didn't have a wand and greatly suspected the man was a Squib.

Just as bad as Filch was his cat with the peculiar name of Mrs Norris. She tended to turn up whenever students were breaking school rules, and if she caught students doing something that went against the school rules she would vanish and turn up seconds later followed by Filch. Many students had dreams of punting her through a window in Gryffindor Tower or Ravenclaw Tower and seeing if she was able to land on her feet.

The classes were spectacularly different. A ghost named Professor Binns taught history of Magic, which had a reputation for being a boring class. Binns had been a teacher at Hogwarts in his life, who one day had gotten up to teach a class and left his body where it was. Binns hadn't even known he was dead until a student in his first post-mortem class threw a ball of parchment through him. By the end of Draco's first History of Magic class, he, Harry and Hermione were agreed that Binns had probably bored himself to death during a class. After Ron had his first History of Magic class with Slytherin, he had to agree with them.

Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout, was a more interesting class, and one that Neville actually did well in. This alone set it apart from any other class.

Then there was Defence against the Dark Arts, where Professor Quirrell would teach the students about the ways to control various dark creatures. His class always smelled strongly of garlic, and he seemed almost paranoid about vampires. He also seemed too nervous to look any students in the eyes. Draco was not particularly happy with the class.

Transfiguration was the first class that Draco was truly confident in. In the first class, while Harry and Hermione were the only students to transfigure their matchsticks fully into needles, earning Gryffindor 20 points, he at least turned his to metal and started to work on a point.

In Charms, there was a fair amount of theory covered before they even tried the simplest charm. Tiny Professor Flitwick warned them about the need for precision, being quite fond of the story of Baruffio, who said "b" instead of "d" and wound up under a buffalo.

And then there was Potions. The class that Draco both anticipated and feared. Anticipation because, as it was with Slytherin, it was the only class the entire JM was together for. Fear because, as it was with Slytherin, the rest of the Slytherin first years were there as well. On the first day, Lily entered from the back of the class. "In this class," she said moving towards the front, "there will be very little wand-waving, and, as such, I don't expect very many of you to appreciate the art and exact science that is Potion making. The few of you who do possess the gift, however, can brew fame, bottle glory, even put a stopper in death." She looked dead serious until she turned to the class. "That's a standard Potions Master or Mistress speech. Professor Vernificus gave me the same speech during my first Potions class, and I've given it to every first-year class since I became the resident Potions Mistress. The first year, I was nervous about being able to say it with a straight face, but I managed. Now, then, who can tell me what I would get if I added asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" She looked straight at her son. "Well, Harry, how about you?"

"You would get a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."

"Very good, Harry. Now then, Ms. Lovegood, where would I find a Bezoar?"

"The most common location is the stomach of a goat, but they're also known to be found in Mumpwug droppings."

Lily looked at Luna, then said "True, but since Mumpwugs are only in this world once every hundred years at the North and South poles that's hardly the most reliable source."

"There's also rumours that they're found on the tip of a Crumple Horned Snorkack's horn-"

"Which can't be proven without killing a Snorkack and removing its horn, which is impossible, as if a Snorkack dies naturally its horn vanishes and we don't yet have magic powerful enough to kill them. But we're getting off track. A Bezoar is, for the purposes of this course, a stone found in the stomach of a goat and it is known to neutralize most poisons." She looked back over at the table where Ron and Harry were sitting. "Ronald Weasley," she asked, "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

"I don't have a clue, Mrs. Pot- Professor Potter."

"That's because there is no difference," Lily explained. "Wolfbane and Monkshead are the same plant, which is also known as Aconite."

The rest of the class was spent brewing a potion which Lily described as "so simple that James could have managed it." Draco noticed several instances where Crabbe tried to put items which would react badly with ingredients in the potion into Gryffindor cauldrons. To Draco's, and especially Harry's astonishment, Neville was one of the best students in the class, with only Hermione, Draco and Crabbe coming close to matching his and Harry's perfect potions.

"Harry," Draco asked while waiting for the potions to heat up properly, "how do you do so well in every class?"

Harry smiled and said "I just find it so easy it's like I've done it all before."

"What was with your mum and Luna," Draco asked Harry after class. "Why was she reinforcing all of that Snorkack nonsense?"

"It sounded to me as if she was serious and she believed they really existed."

This conversation was stopped short as they ran into something huge and hairy.

"Oh, er, sorry, kids, din't see yeh there."

"Hagrid, what were you doing wandering the halls?"

"Don' worry, Harry. I was jest lookin' fer yer mum. She's an old friend o' mine, but I barely see her outside o' Hogwarts." The massive man looked at Draco, Ron and Hermione. "An' these must be the 'friends' Lily's always talkin' 'bout. Yeh know, 'Harry an' his friends're such a handful,' 'Harry an' his friends almost burned the house down with their last stunt,' 'Harry an' his friends-'"

"We get the picture," Draco said.

"Anyways, if yer not doin' anything how'd yeh like ter join us fer tea?"

"Sounds good," Hermione said, Draco and Ron nodding in agreement.

Hagrid headed down to the Potions room, emerging with Lily beside him.

Hagrid looked at Ron and Draco as they walked down the corridor and out of the school. "Yeh know," he began, "even if Lily hadn' told me yer names I'd prob'ly be able ter guess who yeh were. 'Course no guessin's really necessary fer Draco here, scar takes all the fun outta it, but I'd be able ter guess that yer a Weasley pretty easy, Ron."

"Well, the hair is generally a good indication of that."

"Red hair, blue eyes, an' that same mischievious grin Arthur used ter get when he was a student," Hagrid said, "no mistakin' a Weasley. Though I have ter say yer dressed a shade better 'n Bill or Charlie were when they started."

"That's because they started before dad started his rise in the ministry."

"Righ'. Where's Arthur workin' now anyways?"

"Well, he refuses to leave the Muggle Relations job, but then there's a good reason for that."

"Aye, too many supporters of You-Know-Who who would love ter make that position inna a joke."

"Yeah, but if he finds someone trustworthy to take over the position, then he's pretty much right behind Crouch."

The group headed out to a small wooden house, really more of a shack, on the edge of the forest. "Here we are," Hagrid said, "home sweet home." Draco heard a loud barking from inside the house. "Tha's jest Fang," Hagrid told the nervous students. "Believe me, his bark's worse'n his bite." Hagrid opened the door to reveal an enormous black boarhound, which bounded up to Hagrid and started licking his face. Draco noticed that there was a crossbow hanging on a hook near the door and assorted hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling. In one far corner was a massive bed with a patchwork quilt on it. Draco noted a copper kettle full of – something – was boiling on an open fire.

"It's a bit small," Draco said, looking again around the one room house.

"Bit small, but it's served me well. Frankly 'm grateful ter have anything at all. Not too much open ter wizards thrown outta Hogwarts."

"Thrown out," Hermione asked, curiously.

"I shouldn'ta told ya that."

"What happened," Hermione asked, curiously.

"Not really sure. Even ter me it's a riddle." Harry was suddenly overcome with a coughing fit.

"You okay, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Draco," Harry replied, recovering quickly.

Draco soon learned that 'Tea' with Hagrid consisted of exactly that; tea and nothing else. There had been rock cakes put out, but judging from the taste of them, Hagrid had mistaken the name for a recipe.

"Look at that," Harry said, suddenly, drawing attention to a piece of paper lying on the table under a tea cosy. Draco picked it up and read it:

**_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_**

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

'_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokegoblin this afternoon._

"Someone tried to rob Gringotts," Hermione said, shocked.

"Sure, Herms. Don't you read the Daily Prophet?"

"Well, I don't exactly get it at home. My parents are muggles, after all." Hermione read over the article again. "July 31, isn't that the day we went to Diagon Alley."

"Right," Draco said, "on Harry's birthday."

"Well, what do you-" Hermione was cut off my Harry.

"I remember seeing someone I thought was a giant coming out with something clenched in his-" Harry said, before realisation seemed to dawn on him. "Hagrid!"

"I agree that that man was probably Hagrid," Hermione said, "but what makes you think that random package was anything important? I mean if he could hold it in the palm of his hand, how valuable could it be?"

"Well," Harry began, "for someone to risk breaking into Gringotts something would have to be so valuable that-"

Hermione picked up Harry's thought. "That a follower of You-Know-Who would risk falling into one of the traps at Gringotts and-"

"That the only way to protect it would be with a trap to cause 'a very painful death' to anyone who tried to find it," Draco concluded.

"The third-floor corridor," they said as one.

"I'm still not convinced it was whatever Hagrid had," Hermione said, ever the sceptic.

"Well, have you ever heard of a Star Seed," Draco asked.

"No," Hermione replied.

"It's an incredibly small magical gem – no bigger than a fingernail – which exponentially increases the power of any wand it's attached to. Besides," Draco continued, "if something were taken from Gringotts to Hogwarts on July 31, who would be better to trust with it than someone who almost certainly has some Giant blood in him and couldn't just be taken down by a Stunning Spell?"

---DM---

This chapter was originally two chapters, until I realised that nothing happened in the first one and both were painfully short. Hence, two become one. Plus, these events were in the same chapter in the book anyways. I would say to try to guess where the cut-off point was, but it's just too obvious.

Apologies for the standard/generic/boring feel of the first half. Hopefully Luna lightened it up a bit, but I'll admit that the classes are hardly the most exciting part to read or write.

Well, the wheels are turning and the hints are being planted. Despite his remaining a Gryffindor in this story, Harry is showing his Slytherin side very strongly. Just watch as he manipulates Draco into the solution. And, even then, is he leading his friend on a wild goose chase without realising it? Probably not.

For those wondering, the Star Seed is my own creation. Its name is taken from the Our Lady Peace song of the same name off the album 'Naveed'. Remember that little gem, as it has a rather large significance in the Wizarding World. Well, in MY version of the Wizarding World, anyways.

Finally, it's useful again! NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW:

---DM---

Crabbe turned to face Draco. "How about we settle this once and for all, Malfoy."

"And what do you propose," Draco asked.

"A Wizard's Duel," Crabbe replied with a sneer. "I highly recommend you get a Second, as I suspect you'll need one."

"Oh, yes, I'm scared of all the advanced magic that daddy's somehow taught you from the Great Beyond," Draco said with the utmost sarcasm in his voice.

Crabbe cast a smirk in Neville's direction before saying "The Great Beyond may be closer than you think."

---DM---

Ladies and Gentlemen: the challenge has been made and the trap has been set. If anyone REVIEWs I'll see you next time. Otherwise, I'll still post the next chapter, but I'll have nothing to respond to.


	7. Flying Lessons and Crabbe's Challenge

Chapter 7

Flying Lessons and Crabbe's Challenge

"Perfect," Draco said on the way to the next class, "we've got Flying Lessons with the Slytherins today."

"So," Hermione said, "we get to make Crabbe look stupid on brooms. I don't see how we can lose here. After all, it's not exactly like we're likely to lose control."

"That's right," Harry said, "Especially with our matching set of Nimbus 2000's."

"Which, of course, we don't 'officially' have."

"Of course."

The group soon reached the line of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. Draco noticed that Neville was clutching something glowing red – a Remembrall, unless he was mistaken.

Madam Hooch introduced the students to the basics of flying, ignoring the snickers coming from a 'certain' group of Gryffindors and a Slytherin.

Naturally, the group were easily able to summon their brooms from the ground.

"Now, let's do some low flying." Neville lifted off the ground and seemed to completely lose control. As he hit the castle, he dropped his Remembrall. Crabbe went racing after it and Draco followed. Harry and Hermione took to the air. Crabbe made a grab for the Remembrall, but Draco already had it. Crabbe attempted to hit Draco's broom with his own and Draco tossed the Remembrall to Hermione, who caught it, used a Sloth-Grip Roll to get out of the way of the approaching Crabbe, then tossed it to Harry. Harry flew around, dodging Crabbe's every attempt to grab either the ball or his broom. Harry landed at the feet of an irritated looking Professor McGonagall.

"Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger, please come with me." Draco gulped. He was sure they were about to be expelled.

"I can't believe this, expelled in the first week. It's not our fault that Crabbe git went after Neville's remembrall."

Professor McGonagall led the nervous students through the corridors.

"Professor," Draco begged, "we were just trying to help Neville out. Crabbe went after his Remembrall and-" Draco stopped speaking as the group stopped in front of a tall Scottish boy. "Who is this?"

"This, Mr Malfoy, is Oliver Wood the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." While the three looked in awe, McGonagall spoke quietly to Wood.

"Caught a Remembrall, did he"

"That's right. And Miss Granger used what I believe was a Sloth Grip Roll to avoid another student's attack."

"Sloth Grip Roll? Professor, that's a professional move."

"I am very much aware of that fact, Mister Wood. You seem to have forgotten, when I was a student-"

"I know, I know. Best Chaser Gryffindor house ever saw."

"I believe we have three openings on the team this year, Wood."

Oliver looked at the three first-year students. "Not anymore we don't."

"I believe we at least need to test them, Mr. Wood."

"Why, we haven't had anyone try out to be Seeker, and from what you're telling me these two leave Bell and Spinnet in their dust." Wood turned to the three students. "I suggest you get yourselves some decent brooms. You know, Cleansweep 7 or Nimbus 2000." The three students shared a conspiratorial look.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," Hermione said, struggling to keep herself from laughing.

"We'll see if we can get Dumbledore to make an exception to those rules." Draco's thoughts turned immediately to Ron, alone as a Weasley in Slytherin.

"Could I make a suggestion, Professor?"

"What would that be?"

"Hold flying tests for all first years. Any who are good enough can get their own brooms and try out for the team. That way it won't look like favouritism to Gryffindors."

It seemed that Draco's advice was taken to heart. At supper that evening, Dumbledore announced the first-year flying tests. Draco could see Ron practically beaming over at the Slytherin table.

"You think he knows we're responsible for this?"

"I think he suspects it. After all, flying lessons were with the Slytherin first years. I know for a fact he saw our little show, and I suspect he's guessed what McGonagall took us away for."

"Get this one in there. JM stunt affects the entire school and effects change."

Harry nodded, placing the silver memory strand into the tiny pensieve.

Suddenly, Crabbe got up from the Slytherin table and walked over to the group. "Mischief managed", Harry quietly said, tapping the calendar.

"I can guess what this is about. Dumbledore didn't want to expel any of his precious Gryffindors so he changes the rules." He looked pointedly at Draco. "And of course, it would have been a disaster of epic proportions if the Boy-Who-Didn't-Effing-Die didn't complete his education. No doubt that thought alone would cause the Dark Lord to return just to be able to gloat."

"You talk pretty big for someone who tried to attack a girl on the Hogwarts Express," Harry said, glaring at Crabbe and reaching for his wand.

"Mind your own business, Potter."

"You insult my friends and it is my business, Crabbe."

Crabbe ignored Harry and turned to face Draco again. "How about we settle this once and for all, Malfoy."

"And what do you propose," Draco asked.

"A Wizard's Duel," Crabbe replied with a sneer. "I highly recommend you get a Second, as I suspect you'll need one."

"Oh, yes, I'm scared of all the advanced magic that daddy's somehow taught you from the Great Beyond," Draco said with the utmost sarcasm in his voice.

Crabbe cast a smirk in Neville's direction before saying "The Great Beyond may be closer than you think."

"Is that some kind of threat, Crabbe," Draco said in a half threatening, half concerned tone.

"Shut up and chose your second, blood traitor."

Harry stood up. "He doesn't need to choose. I'll gladly do it, if only so that you can't try anything with Hermione."

"You're a brave Halfblood, Potter. But we'll see how brave you are when you're standing over your friend's mangled body knowing you're next." Crabbe paused for dramatic effect. "And after that we'll see just how much fight that little Mudblood has in her." Draco felt as if those words had started a fire in his soul.

"You're on, Crabbe. How's the trophy room at midnight sound to you?"

"Perfect. Just be sure you don't chicken out."


	8. The Duel and the Dog

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

Chapter 8

The Duel and the Dog

"Don't chicken out," Draco muttered as Crabbe walked back to the Slytherin table. "Merlin, the nerve of him. I'd bet galleons to knuts that he's not actually going to show up."

"You're on," Hermione said. "He has too much pride to do anything but."

"Ah yes, pride. At once the greatest weapon and greatest weakness of a Slytherin."

"You know what I think," Luna asked from beside Hermione.

"No, what do you think?"

"I think that he has a Grumpfuz clinging to his back."

"And what exactly is a Grumpfuz?"

"A creature that makes anyone it touches want to make other people feel as bad as it does."

Fred and George spoke up from across the table.

"That's one suggestion-"

"But personally-"

"We believe-"

"That someone-"

"Anyone-"

"Needs to remove-"

"The Cleansweep 2-"

"From his-" Fred was cut off by Harry.

"We're trying to be serious, not obscene."

"Well you took Lovegood's suggestion."

"That's because she actually believes in Grumpfuz. Whereas you two don't really believe that he actually has a broomstick stuck there."

"Who said it was full sized?"

"Or that he actually knew?"

"Or that it was even related?"

"The Weasley Twins have struck again," they said in unison.

"Oh, Merlin, you mean you two actually-"

"Afraid so, Draco."

"But don't worry-"

"He won't find out-"

"Until it expands with water!"

"That could probably help in your duel, by the way."

"Incidentally, the spell to completely soak an object is 'Aquarius'."

"Soon, people will forget all about the famous Boy-Who-Lived"

"And remember the infamous Boy-Who-Sat-On-A-Broom-Wrong."

"Or the Boy-Who-Sat-On-An-Umbrella."

"The spell to transfigure a broom to an umbrella is-"

"No, Fred," Draco interjected. "I believe the humiliation will be enough. Just focus on finding some way to show this duel to the entire school."

"Consider it done."

"Although I don't think you would want Filch to see it."

"Or the professors."

"Then charm it so that only people under the age of 19 can see it," Draco said slowly.

"Of course."

"So simple we should have guessed it."

Draco and Harry arrived in the Trophy Room that night under the guidance of the Marauders' Map. When they arrived, however, the map indicated that 'Git' was approaching, but Crabbe was still in the Slytherin common room.

"Bloody coward, we had a duel planned."

"Draco, remember the Twins' little prank. Now remember that he didn't know about it. Now remember Peeves patrolling the corridors with water balloons. Mischief Managed," he said, deactivating the map. The two were getting ready to leave when Mrs Norris came in.

"Is there someone here, my sweet," Filch asked as Draco and Harry tried to keep quiet. Mrs Norris started to hiss at the students. Draco and Harry ran past Filch, so fast he couldn't see who they were, to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

"Quick," Harry said, finding a door, "in here."

"Harry, do you know where we are"

"Yes, we're standing at the entrance to the forbidden Third Floor corridor. Really, which do you prefer, death or your seven years at Hogwarts spent in detention with Filch? Alohomora!" Harry unlocked the door to the forbidden corridor and ducked inside. Draco followed upon hearing footsteps.

"A very painful death, is it? Hey, Harry, am I dead yet?"

"Not yet," Harry said, pointing at something. Draco turned to find himself face-to-face with a giant three-headed dog. Reactivating the map, the two burst through the door to get out of the corridor without even looking to see if anyone was out there.

"Merlin, what was that thing," Draco asked Harry as they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room.

"I think it's a Cerberus, Draco."

"What?"

"You know, Cerberus, the tri-headed hellhound that guards the gates of Hell."

"I know what Cerberus is, Harry," Draco said. "I meant what would it be doing here?"

"Guarding the entrance to a different kind of Hell. Didn't you see, it was standing on a trap door?"

"I'll bet whatever Dumbledore's hiding is through there."

"Well, we'll have to come back later, won't we?"

"Not without the rest of the Junior Marauders." Little did Draco realise that Harry knew exactly what awaited through the trap door.

"I suppose we should have known that he wouldn't show up," Harry said the next day when the JM were gathered together.

"What, Crabbe," Ron asked. "He wanted to be there, believe me. But, unfortunately, he decided to take a shower first, and the next thing I know Flint's dragging him wearing only a towel to Madam Pomfrey." Apparently he saw something sticking out behind him, used a severing charm to remove it, and only then did he realise he still needed to get it out."

"Well, it appears we owe him a duel, eh Harry?"

"I'd say Fred and George deserve the blame for this one."

"Well," Draco said, "we didn't have our duel, but Crabbe still got what he deserved. Add that broom trick to the Marauders' Prankbook, Harry. Just omit the small detail that we weren't responsible for it."

"Consider it there, Draco. Now, Hermione, we need you to get some information to Blaise and see if he can get it into the gossip mill."

"That shouldn't be a problem, all he has to do is send it to Padma, who's more-or-less already his girlfriend. She'll be able to get it to Parvati, and then it's only a matter of time until the entire school knows Crabbe was caught in the shower with a broom protruding from his anus. They can draw their own conclusions from there."

"Moony, Hood, Padfoot and Prongs would be proud of this one."

"I know, Harry."

"There's more to it, really," Draco confided to Ron and Hermione later that day.

"What do you mean 'more to it,'" Hermione asked.

"I mean there were details that I wouldn't consider telling any time that there was a chance of being overheard."

"Such as," Ron prompted.

"Such as we went into the forbidden corridor to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris. Such as there was a bloody Cerberus in there. Such as it was standing on top of a trap door. Need I go on?"

"So, first we have Hagrid taking something from Gringotts, then we have the break in, meaning it was something valuable, then we have the whole 'forbidden corridor' thing, and now we have a Cerberus?"

"That's right."

"Merlin, Draco, we're over our heads on this one."

"No kidding, Herms."

DM

Yes, that's right, another update! I apologize to my loyal fans (oh, God, I'm being Lockhart-y), but I had several personal issues to work through and I just forgot all about it.

I know that at least one of you was looking forward to seeing Harry try to talk Draco out of the duel, but we can't have Harry acting like he has all kinds of advanced knowledge of everything. After all, his experience is all but null and void when we get to third year. Plus, if Draco hadn't gone to duel, I would have had to come up with a new introduction for Fluffy! And were I that creative, I wouldn't be rewriting the original books!

Crabbe's humiliation was necessary because, unlike Canon!Draco, who is more words than actions, the Crabbe of this story would most certainly actually attend the duel. Thus, I needed a reason to keep him out of it.

You know it, you love it. NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW!

DM

"Ron, you're acting like-"

"A Slytherin? See this crest, Malfoy? Do you know what it means? Or have you been thinking about Loony so much it's damaged your brain?"

"I was going to say you're acting like Crabbe, except I think he might be more understanding."

DM

Massive shake-ups in the New Marauders, coming next chapter!


End file.
